The Hamilgames
by LamsNotLambs
Summary: It's time for the Hamilgames! Can't really say anything else without giving it away. AU, not exactly modern because it's like the time during the hunger games. Rating T for death. Won't be too graphic. But it's the Hunger Games brraaah. A bit of a romantic flair ;) Basically the AU where a lot of people are gay and it's totally normal to be gay.
1. The Reaping

**AU where there is no Hunger Games characters involved, just Hamilton characters in the time of the 50th Hunger Games.**

* * *

Alexander Hamilton sat. It was all he could do. Just staring at the wall, twiddling his thumbs. There was nothing to do before the Reaping. You just sit and pray that you don't get chosen as tribute. He was 18, his last year that he could be in the Hunger Games. He should be relieved that after this year, he won't be entered in the Reaping anymore, but he wasn't. He signed up for tesserae each year. Thankfully, he only had gotten one each year, since he lived by himself in District 12. Alex has 7 entries from being eighteen, plus 7 more from the tesserae. Only 14 out of thousands of slips of paper. But, this year, it will be different. For the first Quarter Quell, there were 2 girls from each district and no boys, and this year, for the 2nd Quarter Quell, there will be 2 boys from each district. There is a catch this time though. Both boys _and_ girls can volunteer as tribute, but girls will not be in the reaping bowl. Not like any girl would want to go in for him. He only knew a few people. Nobody would ever sponsor him. They wouldn't have pity for somebody like him. Alex only has one friend, if you could even call it that. John Laurens lived about a block away. If there were any events, they would often go together. As in, when there was a reaping, they'd look for each other in the crowd and just stand next to each other, praying neither of them would go in. John has a sister, Mary. He refuses to let her get the tesserae, so Laurens has 7 entries from being 18, and 14 more from signing him and Mary up for tesserae. The odds are not in his favor. Although, there are many more children in District 12 who have their name in the reaping over 40 times. Alex looked up at the clock. 1:45. Time to go.

* * *

At 1:55, John and Mary finally found Alex in the large stream of people at the Reaping. 5 more minutes until 2 unfortunate children will be set up for death.

"Hi!" John said, putting on a fake smile, hoping that it would be generic enough.

"Don't even pretend to be happy." Alex mumbled, staring at the floor, "The odds are not in our favor."

"Trust me," Mary pleaded, "There are thousands of papers in there. The chances that one of you will go in are slim to none."

"That's easy for you to say," John growled, "You're not even IN the Reaping!"

"I know," Mary said quietly, "But I believe in you two. You won't be in the Hunger Games."

Alex nodded. He had a plan. If Laurens was a tribute, he would volunteer for him. He couldn't let him go in. Not after loving him for so long, and then throwing away his shot. Of course, Laurens didn't know Alex loved him. He may never.

Laurens stopped himself from getting angry at Mary. He had a plan. If Alex was a tribute, he would volunteer for him. Ever since he laid eyes on Alexander, he knew Alex was everything he could ever ask for. After loving him for so long, he won't let him go. He will spare his life. He won't win for Alex, Laurens was sure of that. There were much stronger districts. But Alex won't think anything of it. Laurens knew that they were only acquaintances, possibly friends, but he might be overthinking it. He knew Alex didn't love him. He never will.

* * *

As the clock struck 2, a cheery voice boomed across the district has she stepped onto the stage.

"Hello!" She shouted, "I am Sally Hemings, and, as you probably know, it is time for the 50th annual Reaping of District 12!" There was clapping from the audience, but Alex knew it wasn't real. Probably just some guy clicking switches to simulate an excited crowd.

She then explained everything about the Hunger Games and it's history. Not like anybody cared. She eventually finished up that speech that felt like it lasted in eternity.

"Well, let's get right to it!" Sally walked over to the Reaping bowl. Instead of 2 large bowls, this year there was one bowl holding all of the eligible boy's names. She dumped her hand into the bowl and shoved the papers around, clawing at them with her fake orange fingernails. "Ahem, your first tribute, is, John Laurens!"

Laurens nearly fainted, Martha turned frozen. Alexander snapped into reality.

"I volunteer as tribute!" He cried, pushing his way through the crowd before John could even process what was happening.

"And what is your name?" Sally asked.

"Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton." He said, out of breath, even though he barely had to walk far to get to Sally.

"Well, here is our first, brave tribute!" Sally shouted, "Alexander Hamilton!"

Fake applause again.

"Well, don't get TOO excited just yet!" Sally chirped gleefully, like sending kids off to murder each other was a fun game of tag. "We still have our second tribute!"

John was processing everything. Alex. He volunteered for him. No. This can't happen.

"John Trumbu-" Sally started, but was cut off by Laurens

"I VOLUNTEER!" He shouted, sprinting a few meters to the stage.

"Another volunteer!" Sally cried cheerfully. "What's your name, young man.?"

"John Laurens."

The crowd actually gasped this time. Not a fake one by a guy pressing a button on a keyboard. A gasp of shock, pity, confusion. There was one cheer. John Trumbull most likely. Relieved that he doesn't have to go in.

"Well would you look at that! Best friends supporting each other I say?" Sally asked, covering her amazement.

Alex almost shook his head no, but he stayed silent. They could use this to their advantage in the games.

"There you have it!" Sally said, ignoring her previous question. "Our District 12 victors, John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton!"


	2. Other Reapings

I stared up at the empty stage, nervous. Why nervous? Why am I, Angelica Schuyler, nervous? I'm not going to be picked for the Reaping. I'm not going to volunteer. That's idiotic. Why would I set myself up for death? Why?

Why did I make that pact?

* * *

"Hello, I'm Dolley Todd, and welcome to the Reaping for the 50th annual Hunger Games! Woo!" She pumped her fist in the air as she walked onto the stage. After explaining the rules, she stepped up to the Reaping Bowl.

I stared at my feet, unable to look up.

"George Washington!" Dolley cried, smiling broadly.

George Washington didn't hesitate to go up to the stage, but he did not run up there. He walked with his head held high, but you could just barely see the nervousness in his eyes.

"And..." Dolley fished around in the bowl, and after what seemed like ages, she finally pulled it out, "John Church!"

No. No. I'm not going in. I can't. He isn't worth it. But. We made a pact. I can't defy him. But he never seemed nice. I barely know him, yet I know him so well. Just because we're dating doesn't me I have to volunteer. But I said I would.

"John Church?" Dolley repeated.

I realized John never went up to the stage. He thought I was going to go.

I walked a few feet over to John and shoved him a bit, like saying "Go, what are you waiting for?"

It seems that John got my silent message. He glared at me and stormed up to the stage.

I hope he dies in there.

* * *

Lucy Flucker stared at the slip of paper for a good 10 seconds. It's going to be me. What other reason would she be so confused at that slip of paper?

"Marie-Joseph Paul Yes Rock Gilbert due Moo Tier, M-Mars Quiche Day Loaf Eye Eat." Lucy stuttered.

Cringing at the horrible pronunciation, I walked up to the stage. With no second thoughts, I grabbed Lucy's microphone and announced, "Marquis de Lafayette."

She nodded and plunged her hand back in the bowl.

Why does it have to be me? I don't deserve this. I didn't do anything wrong. I never signed up for tesserae.

"James Reynolds!" Lucy declared with much more ease than my name.

At least somebody who deserves to die will be there.

"I volunteer!" A girl's voice cried. I recognized it immediately. Maria Lewis.

Reynolds set her up. She was forced to volunteer from him. She doesn't deserve this.

James smirked as he kicked his girlfriend's legs, urging her to go on the stage.

Maria never hurt a soul.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter, I just wanted to get a few interesting Reapings done.

Here is the list of all the tributes. (BTW, all of these are real people):

District 1- Samuel Seabury, John Wilkinson  
District 2- Washington, John Church  
District 3- Charles Lee, Martha Dandridge (volunteered)  
District 4- Abigail Smith, Martha Wayles (both volunteers)  
District 5- James Madison (volunteered for Thomas Jefferson), John Adams  
District 6- Lafayette, Maria Lewis (Volunteered for James Reynolds)  
District 7- Daniel Custis, Frances Jones  
District 8- Hercules Mulligan, Timothy Pickering  
District 9- Benjamin Lincoln, John Doughty  
District 10- George Eacker, Aaron Burr  
District 11- Anthony Wayne, Henry Dearborn  
District 12- John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton

Sorry I didn't do a Reaping for District 5, everything was starting to sound too similar. (James volunteered for ~LOVE~) (thomas doesn't know that)


	3. The Opening Ceremony

The room I'm in is probably the fanciest one I've ever been in. Lots of carpets and velvet chairs and couches. The velvet on the sofa turns out to not be very comfortable, so I just sit as distant from the sofa has possible while still being on it.

I don't expect anybody to visit me before I die, but I'm mistaken. Martha Laurens comes in. She runs over to the couch.

"Alex, Alex, are you listening to me?" She asks, out of breath. I nod my head.

"You need allies, no offense, but that's the only way you can win. Don't show your skills off in training, only show your best ones in the private session." It seems weird that Martha knows all of this.

"But I don't have any skills," I say, finally looking at the younger girl.

"Yes you do," She grabs my face. "You can run. Like, really fast."

"What, you think the Gamemakers are going to let me build a track and just run the whole time?" I question.

"No, but you're agile enough that you can dodge attacks. You can go in a fake fight against a trainer and prove that you have speedy reflexes!"

"I guess," I shrug.

"And make allies," Martha repeats. "Get people who are strong, but also intelligent ones. Don't let Jack leave your side."

 _Jack?_ I wonder, _Oh, that's John. Did Martha ask him to be allied with me?_

I nod my head again. A Peacekeeper glances into the room, signaling Martha to leave.

"One more thing," she says, "Take this."

Martha hands me a small green bracelet. "This used to be mine; Jacky has the other bracelet. Once he sees my-well, your bracelet, he'll know that you two will be allies."

"Thanks," I mutter, slipping the bracelet around my wrist.

"Just stay alive, that would be enough," She mumbles, kissing my forehead. She strides out of the room, head held high, but I'm near certain that she's choking back tears.

* * *

I stared in shock at my reflection after my stylists completely changed me.

My long, dark brown hair was now smooth and glossy, held up in a high ponytail. My face was shaved clean of any stubble that used to be there, and I just had an overall glowing look.

As I walked over to my stylist who was going to dress me, I saw the items I would wear in her hands.

"Hi, Alexander," She said to me, "I'm Theodosia Prevost, and I'm your stylist."

"What am I going to wear?" I asked immediately, nervous about what crazy things would be plastered over my body.

"Well, we've decided to try something new."

 _New? This can only be bad._

"We're going to have you and John Laurens illuminate the room with your clothes! You're going to be the headlights on miner's caps!"

It took all of the strength I had to not facepalm at this idea.

"You're going to wear this _beautiful_ golden tuxedo, covered in the most _magnificent_ sparkles! You're going to brighten up the room!" Theodosia laughed at the pun she made and had me walk over to fit into the blinding costume.

* * *

My reflection, in my humble opinion, was hideous. Before I actually looked kind of good, with my face and body all cleaned off, but this outfit ruined it. There were bright golden streaks in my hair, and glitter stuck to my body. I had this glowing look that came from my bedazzled tuxedo.

As I was stepping onto the carriage for the opening ceremony, I whispered to Laurens, "If you get this gold out of my hair, I'll wipe off your eyeliner."

He laughed and said, "It's a deal."

But the thing is, John Laurens didn't look happy. Every smile and every laugh seemed forced. His usual bubbly self had disappeared, and even the eyeliner making his hazel eyes pop didn't brighten him.

We made our way across the room in carriages, and I swear that I heard another tribute laugh at us.

* * *

 **This was actually finished a few weeks ago, but I wanted this to published close to the next chapter, which should be coming out some time before the end of next week. See you next time!**


	4. Training

I was dreading this day, but it's come. Today we start the training. This was the day where I get to meet the other tributes, and see how infinitely better they are then me. Luckily, I'm supposed to stay by Laurens's side the whole time. I chewed on the inside of my cheek the entire trip down the elevator. I'd felt the metal taste of blood in my mouth for ages that I can't even remember what normal saliva tastes like. Only just when the doors are about to open is when I feel the pain in my cheek. It's like being stabbed with 1000 scorching knives, except I felt like those knives might be a reality I'd have to face soon. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and walked out of the elevator with John. The tributes from District 5 were here, and also six others that I can't remember what district they're from.

I unconsciously grab Laurens's hand, and we started towards the camouflage table. One other tribute was there. He had dark skin, wide, broad shoulders, and a gray beanie placed on his head. His hand was covered in a glob of leaves that in no way would ever help anything blend in with their surroundings. I walked right up next to him while Laurens slowly trailed behind me, looking quite intimidated by all of the weapons on the other side of the room.

He looked down at me and said with a grin, "Hercules Mulligan. District 8."

I smiled back and said, "My name is Alexander Hamilton, and this is John Laurens," he grabbed John's hand again and wrapped his arm around his shoulder (a bro hug), "District 12 tributes."

"The other guy in my District- who's only 12, by the way -Timothy over there," Hercules pointed to a boy who looked a lot like Hercules, except for the fact that he was no taller than 5 feet, "doesn't really know that he's here to learn skills, not show off how amazing he is at tying a freaking knot."

Laurens chuckled and said, "You yourself may not be learning much," he pointed at the blob on Hercules's hand.

"Alas!" Hercules cried, "It talks!"

John blushed and said, "You may not want to put red and green leaves on your hand at the same time, just common sense."

"But my dearest Laurens!" I pleaded, "He will never learn without his mistakes!"

I could've sworn Laurens blushed harder at his nickname, but it might have just been my hopes getting up.

"Why don't you show me how it's done, then?" Hercules asked with a smirk.

"I will," John replied with the same grin plastered on his face.

He laid some light brown leaves onto his hand and picked up some mud, blending the colors and covering any bits of his skin. He added more and more leaves until his whole hand up until his forearm looked like something right off the ground.

"Whoa," Hercules mumbled, staring at John's 3-minute work of art.

"I can do better," John mumbled, "This table doesn't have all the supplies that you'd find in the wilderness."

"You can do better? This is awesome, Laurens!" I cried, picking up his hand, examining the intricate details. I leaf fell off while I brushed my hand over the top of his, but the rest of the leaves were staying on his skin.

"Let's do something else," John said, "Hercules, wanna come with us?"

"I don't see why not," Hercules said, shrugging.

"How about," John spun in a circle with his eyes closed and his arm pointed out. When he stopped spinning, it landed on, "archery!"

"Sure," Herc and I said simultaneously.

I picked up a bow, surprised by its heavy weight. I hoisted it up, put an arrow in, pulled the string thing back, and let go. The arrow fell to the ground right in front of me, nowhere near the dummy targets.

John giggled and said, "That's not how you do it."

"Then why don't you show me?" I asked, a smile creeping on my face.

"I will," He responded. He shifted his body so he was perpendicular to the target, his feet shoulder width apart. He placed the arrow in a notch in the bow and used three fingers to pull back on the string. He raised the bow up and let go.

The arrow almost hit Herc's face.

"Hey man," Herc cried, "What are you doing!"

"Shooting with this, duh!" Laurens replied, holding the bow up.

"You almost hit me!"

"But that wouldn't have happened if your face was right next to the target!"

Hercules turned around and gasped. The arrow was right next to him. John had gotten a bullseye.

"How'd you do that?" I asked immediately, face full of belief and disbelief at the same time.

"I learned it at home," John said smugly, "Picked up a bow and arrow and shot my dad right in the face."

I knew John's dad had been abusive, but not Hercules.

"WHAT?" Herc screeched.

"Oh my gosh! I'm just kidding!" Laurens said with a laugh, "There's a manual right here." He lifted up two sheets of paper on the table with bows and quivers.

"Oh," I said sheepishly, blushing. _Sheepishly?_ I asked myself, _since when was I sheepish,_

John blushed, too. "It was just a lucky shot."

I could've sworn I heard Herc cough into his shoulder, "Sexual tension," but it might've just been my mind.

After spending half an hour working with archery, I was pretty good, but John was fantastic. And Herc, well, he was Herc.

We walked over to the weights, but Herc muttered, "Guys, let's skip this for now."

With that, we continued walking around. We stopped at the fishing station for a few minutes where a girl with pale skin and black hair kept on cutting herself with a hook. Our crew (Herc, John, and myself) learned a few things, but we didn't think that they'd be substantial in the arena. When we were making our way to the fire, we bumped into a guy a bit taller than us, who must've been at least 16. He had dark skin and black hair pulled up into a bun. There was stubble dotting his chin and a content expression on his face.

"Bonjour!" He said, looking up from the ground, "Je m'apelle Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Rock Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. Or ya know, just Laf."

Laf grinned at the surprised expressions on our faces, but I grounded myself and replied to him.

"Bonjour, Laf. Je suis Alexander Hamilton du District 12, de même que John Laurens ici. C'est Hercules Mulligan du District 8. **(** **Hey, Laf. I'm Alexander Hamilton from District 12, and so is John Laurens here. This is Hercules Mulligan from District 8.)** " Laf's face lit up as I spoke this in French, and he started bombing me with questions, all in French.

"Woah! Calm down!" I said, laughing, "The three of us were just about to make a fire, wanna join?"

"Sure, why not!" Laf replied, tagging along with us.

We quickly built a fire, but only after Herc accidentally set Laf's arm on fire. After a stifled squeak, John literally jumped a gallon of water on Laf's arm. He thanked John and we continued with our fire.

We met a few other people along the way around the training site. There was Maria, who looked around 14 and was very stiff and thin. Another girl, Martha Dandridge, also paused what she was doing just to give us a friendly hello. A boy, John Church, who must've been around 18, looked very unhappy to be here and was chucking weights at a target. Aaron Burr had been trying to figure out which way a spear is supposed to be held. James Madison looked a lot like Herc but seemed much more calm.

At the end of the day, John seemed to be really good at camoflauge and archery, Herc was pretty good at starting fires, Laf was surprisingly good at climbing and fistfighting. But all that I could do was dodge attacks and run away, nothing to actually survive with. I didn't have any tricks for offense.

As John and I got in an elevator together, I had only one thought. _Give me something to live for._

* * *

 **Once I finished this chapter to start editing it, I realized that half of the first half of the story was written in present tense and the rest was written in past tense. This is usually one of the things I accidentally miss while editing, so please tell me if I missed a spot in this chapter!**


End file.
